Seductive Wager (35 page)

“I love you,” Kate managed to whisper, her lips so close they brushed against his ear. “If this is the only way I could have had these last weeks, then I don’t regret it.”

Brett’s body was convulsed with a wracking sob, and his arms closed around her with suffocating strength. Then suddenly the door was open and he was gone.

Kate was too stunned to move right away, but Mark ran to the door and locked it with fumbling fingers. He tried to push the huge wardrobe over to the door, but it wouldn’t move. Kate gathered her wits and tried to help him, but it still wouldn’t budge. “It must be bolted to the floor,” she said in frustration. A brief inspection showed that all the furniture was bolted into place so it wouldn’t slide about during a storm.
But we’re being attacked by pirates, not a storm,
Kate thought irrationally.

“Did you bring a pistol?” she asked Mark, trying to use her brain rather than her emotions. He shook his head.
He is so frightened he’s useless,
she thought. If any thinking had to be done, she was going to have to be the one to do it. “Do you have any weapons?”

“A knife,” he said through chattering teeth. “I’m not any good with a sword, and the captain would never let any of us keep pistols. We didn’t need them on the channel crossing.” He continued to stare at Kate with dilated eyes, making her feel guilty for having taken him from a safe job and put him in the way of real danger.

“Put that chair against the door. Wedge it under the handle. I have to get my pistols ready. If they break in, move out of the way quickly. I’m going to shoot anyone who comes through that door. Do you understand?” Mark nodded his head, but Kate doubted he understood more than one word in three.

Kate gave her pistols a final check, then hitching up her skirt before Mark’s fascinated eye, she strapped the knife to her thigh the way Brett had taught her. She didn’t know if she’d be able to use it, but she wanted every possible chance to fight for her freedom. Finally she picked up the tiny pistol Brett kept in his drawer. She carefully loaded it and slipped it into the bosom of her dress.
If all else fails,
the thought with a heavy heart,
this will be for me.
She glanced around the room to see if there was anything more she could do. “Are you ready, Mark?”

He nodded assent, but his eyes still showed little comprehension.

She tried not to think of Brett, tried not to think of what would happen if he wasn’t the first person to come through the door. Her fear for his safety was desperate, but she couldn’t allow it to take hold of her mind or she would become just as useless as Mark. She didn’t know what she would be able to do, but she must be alert to any opportunity, no matter how small. They
had
to come through this; her mind simply would not accept any other outcome.

She picked up her pistols and turned to face the door.

Chapter 20

The captain said that any possible threat had ended with the disappearance of the small boats, and he had reduced the night watch to a single sailor. The pirate ship had surprised the seaman by coming up quickly out of the night just as the first light from the sun began to melt away the black of the night sky, and he had net seen it bearing down on them until it was too late to have any hope of outrunning it.

Within seconds of hearing the alarm, the deck was filled with half-dressed men rushing about in bewildered response to the call. The captain, who alone seemed to be in control of himself, shouted orders to man the rudder and hoist the sails. The crew had only enough men to put the ship under full sail; if they followed the captain’s orders, there would be none left to defend it.

It took no more than one look for Brett to know there was no time to raise sails or alter their course. The pirates would be alongside before half the rigging was in place. In a short and savage exchange of words, he tried to convince the captain to abandon the idea of running away from the pirates and to organize the men to defend this ship instead. The captain turned his back on him, and Brett whipped him around. “Hell and damnation, man! Can’t you see there’s no use in raising the sails? There isn’t time for anything but a desperate defense.”

“Get out of my way,” ordered the captain, furious that anyone should question his orders. “I’ll have you removed from the deck if you don’t go back to your cabin and stay there.” He turned and started shouting at the sailors who had stopped to listen to Brett’s argument, mixing his orders with pithy curses.

Looking back at the rapidly approaching ship, Brett realized it would be alongside in fifteen minutes and they still hadn’t made any attempt to organize a defense. Once again he tried to get the captain’s attention, but the furious man tried to push him from the upper deck. Brett took the butt end of his pistol and brought it down with brutal force on the base of the man’s skull, and the captain dropped to the deck like a deadweight. The first mate stared openmouthed at Brett, undecided as to what to do.

Brett turned on him like a whirlwind. “Can you get this damned crew out of the rigging and organized to fight off these bloody devils?”

The man came to life. “Yes, sir!” he replied, and with a few concise commands ordered the men out of the rigging and began to position them to get the greatest advantage from their numbers. Brett raced below deck and broke the lock on the munitions closet, but there was little to be found beyond a few pistols, several kinds of old swords, and some ancient knives.

“Good Lord,” Brett exclaimed in disbelief, “doesn’t anyone in this tub know about the invention of gun powder? This looks like the hole of a Viking ship.” No one dared answer him. “You might as well pass these things out anyway. If worse comes to worst, we can always
throw
them at the bastards when they try to board.” He left in disgust with sinking spirits. There was even less chance now of his being able to protect Kate; their only hope was that the pirates would never find her.

By the time he returned to the deck, the pirate ship was closing in quickly, its crew gathered along the rail ready to board as soon as they came alongside. The motley band was at least three times their number and heavily armed. They were a ragged group, all dressed differently and wearing bits and pieces of clothing they had taken from previous captives. They were in a cheerful mood, joking and laughing among themselves as they pointed to the ship and its crew. Brett delivered himself of some rather ripe curses that caused one young sailor to stare in awe.

As the ships drew closer together, a hairy man of medium height and rotund shape came to the side of the pirate ship and called out, “Surrender now and no one will be hurt.”

Brett looked questioningly at the first mate, but he was too nonplussed by the unexpected command uttered in excellent English to be able to reply. The call came again the same as before. “Surrender now and no one will be hurt.”

“Better to fight now than later,” Brett muttered as he studied the ship and its crew, trying to determine a possible line of defense. “Tell the men to wait until the ship comes alongside before they attack,” he said, turning to the first mate. “Then when they try to cross from one ship to the other, push as many of them as we can into the water. Maybe we can reduce their numbers enough to give us a chance to hold them off until help comes.”

“What help? From where?” the first mate asked, unable to believe they might be rescued but willing to grasp at any hope however slight.

“One of those ships riding at anchor in the harbor at Algiers,” Brett said, pointing to the masts of several large ships in the distance. “It’s the only way. These men are ruthless and battle-hardened. It’ll be impossible for us to drive them off by ourselves.” The first mate’s fleeting hope died, but he moved quickly among the men giving them last-minute instructions and encouragement.

When the ships were only yards apart, the hairy man pointed to the few sailors and howled in derision. “You have no chance,” he sneered. “My men can take you without working up a sweat.” He received no answer. “Don’t be foolish,” he growled, irritated by their silence. “We only want the girl. Let me have her and you can all go unharmed.”

Brett’s body stiffened. How did they know about Kate? Were they just guessing? He looked at the cold, piglike eyes of the swarthy leader and knew he was not a man to go anywhere without a purpose. Somehow he
knew
she was there, but was it idle conversation or sold information that had found its way to his ear?
What does it matter,
Brett thought?
It won’t change what’s going to happen in the next hour.
A feeling of desperation threatened to overwhelm him, but he fought it off. As long as they were free, there was still the chance of escape; they would never get Kate as long as there was breath in his body.

“If we have to take her by force, I’ll sell every one of you to the Turks,” the fat man yelled with rising anger. “No woman is worth that.” The crew stirred restlessly; despite their chivalry and their fear of Brett, it was hard not to think of themselves first.

“You can’t pretend you don’t have a woman on board,” Raisuli screamed, for it
was
the feared pirate himself, “and a fine-looking one at that. Yukor has the best eyes in all of Morocco and he spotted her at your porthole. He had his fishing fleet follow you until I could get here. He’s promised me she is more beautiful than any woman we have ever captured before. You can’t expect me to overlook a prize like that, not a poor man like me.” Raisuli chuckled.

The first mate involuntarily looked at Brett and then turned quickly away. But despair showed in Brett’s face for only a brief moment, to be replaced by a fierce hatred for the laughing barbarian across the water and a muttered vow to kill him rather than let him get his hands on Kate.

“Fools! What’s wrong with you?” Raisuli shouted, angry again. “Are you going to let your Christian chivalry send you to hell? Give me the woman and save yourselves. You can always find another.” But the moment of indecision was gone and the crew settled in, prepared to do battle. “So be it,” Raisuli shouted. “Not even Allah can save you now.”

He turned to his men and shouted some staccatolike orders in Arabic. When he was satisfied that everything was ready for the attack, he turned back toward the ship.

“Be careful you don’t cut them up too much. Damaged goods don’t sell well. Dead ones not at all.” He appeared to be talking to his own men, but he aimed the words at his intended victims, hoping to demoralize them before the fight began. He laughed raucously and pointed his sword at Brett. “Take good care of the big one. Even without the girl, I can get enough for him from some sugar planter to pay for the whole trip. Each bruise is worth fifty florins.” He threw back his head and howled with laughter. Some of his crew joined him as he moved about the deck making ribald jokes which the men enjoyed.

“I don’t understand Arabic,” the unnerved first mate stammered.

“He’s promising them rewards if they capture us without skin wounds,” translated Brett, who understood only too well. “He’s a cunning villain and will kill a man without a qualm, but this may be enough to make the difference. Tell the men to save their shot until the last when it may count for something. There’s no sense in getting ourselves killed unnecessarily.” Again the first mate moved among his men, but the two ships came together before he had completed his circuit, and the air was filled with the pirates’ bloodcurdling screams as they leaped from their ship.

Some of the pirates, overly anxious to win the rewards, leaped too soon and fell into the water on their own, but the first wave was repulsed and sent splashing into the cold sea. To the surprise of everyone, Raisuli only laughed and mocked his men in the water. “Will you let a few soft Christians make fools of you? How can you go home to your women with your pride floating in the sea?”

A few more of his men were unceremoniously thrown into the water, but once the ships locked it was impossible to hold them off any longer. The pirates boarded in force, and within minutes the deck was covered with struggling men. Using their old and unfamiliar weapons bravely, the crew fought desperately to drive them back, but the pirates were secure in the superiority of their numbers and weapons, and they fought steadily to bring the ship under control.

Charles fought valorously, but he was unused to such efforts and was soon sent sprawling by a blow from a big hairy fist. The first mate followed right behind him. The captain regained consciousness sufficiently to see what was happening and decided to stay right where he was.

In the midst of the seething, struggling mass of humanity, Brett fought like a man possessed. Raisuli knew he was the prize of the lot and kept an eye on him.

“Go easy with him, Asra. We don’t want any bloody wounds,” he called to one muscular individual closing in on him. But Brett deflected the blow and sent the man reeling toward the rail with a cut tendon. Raisuli’s eyes glistened in admiration as he landed on the deck with a flourish.

“What a pirate he would make!” Raisuli taunted his men as he took up a position on the bow where he could direct the battle. “He fights like the devil himself. Maybe the woman belongs to him.” He watched Brett cut down another of his men. “These Christians are so selfish with their women. They do not like to share.”

It wasn’t long before Brett was the only man left fighting; the crew were either unconscious or held prisoner.

“Women!” Raisuli spat in disgust as he continued to taunt his men with Brett’s superiority. “You are no more than beardless boys before this raging bull. Three of you go after him, and yet he cuts you down one by one. Can none of you tame him for me?” Raisuli’s taunts infuriated his men, but fewer and fewer of them were willing to risk Brett’s sword. Brett fought tirelessly, with his back to the row of deck cabins, and one after another of the men who faced him fell away until at last Raisuli’s good humor turned sour.